


Wedding Dance

by StormWildcat



Category: Persona 4
Genre: F/M, One Night Stand, Oneshot, Porn, Wedding, hookup, kannao - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:32:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormWildcat/pseuds/StormWildcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night of dancing and drinking, Kanji and Naoto can't keep their hands off of each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything smutty like this in a long time. And I've got to say I'm super glad I did this in Naoto's POV. Having her describe things is so wonderful. I tried very hard to not have this become fluffy as I wanted it to be a hot little piece of fanfiction. Enjoy! Oh, and Happy Birthday, Kanji! This one's for you, big boy. ;)

Maybe it’s the food. Or the drink. Perhaps the formal dress and seeing others all done up. Or it could be the pounding beat of the music and open invitation to the dance floor. Whatever it is, something about weddings tends to transform people into rare form, and Rise’s had been no exception. Yukiko was almost never found at the table lest she sit down during a “favorite” song. Instead she was in the middle of a sea of people, dancing and laughing until the end of the night and she was finally at the point of exhaustion. Narukami actually had to carry her to their room. Chie and her long-time boyfriend Kou were much more publicly affectionate than usual. No doubt they were considering tying the knot themselves regardless of Chie failing to clinch her victory during the bouquet toss. As for myself, I’m almost ashamed to say that it had a very private yet powerful effect.

With the celebratory spirit of the evening, I had decided to really allow myself to get immersed in it. And as one of the bridesmaids, I had no choice. Mamosas and Bloody Marys were passed around during the busy morning, probably as an attempt to keep Rise calm and to numb the rest of us who had to deal with her craziness until she finally heeded Chie’s advice and downed one of the flutes of alcohol. As expected, Yukiko was a bit flushed as we were lining up for the walk down the aisle, but she held it together long enough to make it to the reception dance floor. I took in the surroundings during the ceremony as I should. Everyone dressed up, family and friends of Rise and Yosuke gathered, parents beaming with pride or crying with joy, all the sights I expected were present. I looked across the way to the boys all donning tuxedos and couldn’t help but stare at one in particular.

Kanji was my life line for the remainder of the night. He stayed with me at the table when everyone else got up to dance, mingle or whatever else. (Chie and Kou had disappeared at one point for a few minutes. I don’t even want to know.) He ate next to me, spoke to me and drank with me. To be perfectly frank, we both drank a lot. It was a celebration! A long awaited one at that. Between Rise’s tours and public appearances, it took a lot of planning to pick the wedding day let alone plan the wedding itself. So once the day arrived, we all intended to enjoy every last bit and drink it in; literally.

I got to the point where not only was I fully immersed in the festivities, I was swimming in them. A drink in my hand and a beat in my head from the dj was enough to allow myself to be pulled to the dance floor by the other girls. I’m not usually the one to “shake it” but I figured what the hell. If I was going to, I was at the place and time. So I commenced going with the flow and moving my body to the music. Which had a very unexpected effect on me.

The tempo of the song was as intoxicating as the alcohol in my glass. It had a rhythm to it that begged my hips move to each pounding beat, and move they did. Matter of fact, I couldn’t recall the last time my lower half gyrated the way it was at that moment. It was odd, unlike me and so….freeing. Soon my glass was out of my hand (no doubt rescued from me by waitstaff) and my whole body was into the dance. My arms lifted up at times, legs would step to the music and my torso continued to sway and rock. And the more I lost myself to the beat, the more I found that the love and party atmosphere made me crave the attention and touch of someone.

That was when I remembered my life line; Kanji. I peered through the dancing mob around me constructed of famous friends and unnamed family members of Rise until my eyes managed to focus on the table I had inhabited throughout the night. There sat Kanji, his tux jacket now shed and his vest hugged his large chest, his arms and shoulders pushing at the fabric of his dress shirt. His short black hair has become slightly mussed but in an attractive, fun fashion that called for the touch of playful fingers. And mine were feeling quite frisky.

With steps that seemed heavier than normal, I waded my way through the crowd until I arrived at the table, my hands coming to rest on those massive shoulders that I seemed to become magnetized to as I approached. My voice came out slightly disjointed and higher than I had anticipated. “C’mon, Kanji, come dance with me,” I asked. Admittedly the words were somewhat slurred together. I had spoken in a while so perhaps that also made my speech lazy.

Kanji’s eyes grew wide when they met mine. He seemed surprised that I was asking. There was blush on his cheeks. No doubt the drinks we had shared earlier and the few empty glasses and bottles that had gathered since I left him unattended contributed to a less than sober state for him as well. Rather than attempt words, he responded with a simple and fast nod of the head. Together we made our way back to the floor, getting lost among the rising and ebbing sea of bodies, joining the human waves of motion. Not far from our other friends, a spot was clear and we quickly claimed it as our own.

The first dance was slightly odd but still fun nonetheless. We kept a small distance from each other but still shared a beat. I watched him very carefully (well as carefully as could be expected from an inebriated version of myself) as we danced. His movements were jerky at times but smooth at others, as if he realized he was dancing and became suddenly embarrassed or locked up. But a few more bars into a song and his appendages relaxed to the beat. Another song started, one with some Latin flair to it, and the gap between us quickly closed. Surprised is a low level word for what I was feeling when Kanji pulled me in and taught me the correct counting for the steps. (It was more amazing considering how much we drank for him to teach and for me to absorb the instructions). Apparently his mother had brought him to a class or two when he was a child on different types of ballroom dancing. Though he wasn’t in the class long, he mentioned he had the most fun during the Latin dancing lessons and remembered them clearly to this day.

After that, all of our dances were spent pressed together gyrating in tandem to the songs chosen by the DJ. During this time is when my night took an unexpected turn. It was possible it was just a kind of memorization from the music. However after looking back on it for some time it was most likely due to being in close proximity to such a specimen of manhood that sent me into a kind of mental and physical tizzy. Apparently the formula is as follows: a wedding celebration plus a handful of catchy and danceable beats plus an attractive member of the opposite sex equals an immediate and demanding sexual desire. Never before had I felt so worked up. Suddenly all those years of ignoring my baser instincts were catching up to me, pushing me towards the man I had been grinding against for an undeterminable amount of time. And I was letting it.

It wasn’t as if I wouldn’t have chosen Kanji to be a potential partner without the concoction of cocktails, hypnotic music and the amorous atmosphere of the wedding. However all of these things did emphasize my want to explore the option. And the particular ingredient of the alcohol severely lowered my tact on the subject as well as my ability to keep my hands to myself. I quickly found my fingers trying to grasp the muscle hiding under the vest that covered my dance partner. Once or twice they wandered behind him and downward, drinking in his lower back and beginning of a well-worked backside. It was no secret that Kanji-kun enjoyed physical fitness and pushing his body to the limit and at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to present a new type of exercise that would have the both of us sweating and panting by the end.

My advances evolved, becoming less restrained and more shameless. I had turned away from my partner, giving him a new view and feel of my body that he hadn’t had the pleasure to be introduced to until then. My back was flush to his front, rear tempting him with each sway of my hips. I reached up and behind me, hand finding the back of his neck and coaxing him down until we were cheek to cheek. He caught on quickly to my game and followed suite with large hands that found the curve of my waist and thigh, exploring them eagerly. This was a daring move that I had not expected, but then again, there were a lot of empty glasses and bottles at our table where we had sat not long ago. (Or had it been a long time? I’ll probably never find out the timeframe in which all of this occurred. Damn my lightweight status).

Before I knew it, our movements became synced in our new position and the strain between us grew exponentially more fervent. We were no longer dancing; we were tempting and teasing each other in an effort to get the other to crack, to give into the carnal aspirations that clearly haunted both of us. As I would turn to face him more, the corner of our lips brushing, Kanji would respond with a squeeze of my hip, luring a breathy gasp from my lips that he no doubt felt ghost over his own. Normally I do my best to perform mental calculations of sorts in games of outdoing in an attempt to shut out my competitor to get exactly where I want to be in comparison to them; on top. In this specific case, my body was making the calls. And it was determined to get on top in this instance as well; literally. Knowing that I could make his knees buckle after witnessing a similar move a year or so earlier displayed by Rise performing this very technique against Yosuke (he visibly shuddered), I gathered my leg strength and the courage provided in liquid form and proceeded to slowly drag my body downward, allowing every inch of myself to use Kanji as a human wall to slide down before climbing back up in the same fashion and speed. I took special care to grind myself against the lap of his pants which caused his whole body to tense. A smirk crept across my face when I heard Kanji let out a low, hot growl in my ear.

“Naoto…you’re killing me,” his words heated my neck as well as the space between my legs. “What are you trying to do?”

Tilting my head back, my mouth managed to get close enough for him to hear me purr over the rhythmic bass of the current music selection. “I’m trying to get you as worked up as I am.” This truth was rewarded with a rough squeeze from both of Kanji’s strong hands and a series of slow, torturous rolls of his hips into me, allowing me to build a mental visual of what lay straining underneath his suit pants. An open mouthed kiss landed on my neck, tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.

“You’ve got me plenty worked up,” he groaned, fingers gripping my dress pulling it up ever so slightly. A bar of the song danced by before he spoke again. “You…you’re worked up too?”

I couldn’t help but turn to face him, pressing myself completely against him, chest pushed up from the meeting of our bodies. An impressive display of feminine wiles, if I do say so myself. With fingers wrapped around his tie, I pulled him down until our lips were nary an inch apart. My eyes never looked away from his. “I’ve never been so turned on in my life.” Looking back my brashness still catches me off guard as it obviously had Kanji. I watched as his eyes widened in shock and his mouth stood agape. But this did not last long. As the whole message translated in his head, Kanji’s expression changed to that of an alpha male that’s found its prey; gray steel eyes narrowed on me and a pink tongue skated along his lips in a hungry display.

His hands found my waist again as our bodies continued our previous movements. It seemed as though they knew it was crucial that we keep up the ruse that we were merely dancing and enjoying ourselves so as to not look like a couple of drunken, horny idiots. Though that’s exactly what we were. It was lucky for us that the youngest and eldest of the guests of the wedding had left the reception as we continued to torment each other until it was deemed a good enough time for us to make a break for the hotel rooms on the floors above us. We took a few minutes to calm ourselves and give the best goodbyes and congratulations we could muster. (I honestly couldn’t even get the full word out and downgraded it to “congrats”. This earned a raised eyebrow from Yosuke and an all-too knowing look from Rise). After gathering our belongings from the table, namely Kanji’s jacket and my clutch, we took off in a rushed stumble to the elevators.

Giggling like children that had stolen cookies from a jar, we succeeded in breaching the elevator doors after waiting for what felt like an eternity. ( I’m certain that it was only roughly 20 seconds but we were inebriated and very anxious to be alone.) Once the elevator doors shut, all bets were off. The instant we were closed in the box, Kanji pinned me against the wall, hands eagerly gripping at my dress and his teeth nipping at my neck. It was enough to pull a gasp from my chest and cause my nails to dig into his vest along his back. A large hand strayed down my side, over my hip and to my thigh before hooking under my knee and pulling my leg to be around his so he could sneak his fingers up the hem of my dress. They stretched out until they found the panties underneath and started to pull on them. I had enough sense left in my swimming head to try to weakly keep him from taking them off of me in the elevator. As much as I wanted him to do so, the end game was to get to a hotel room before shedding clothes. Locating anything lost in the hallway or otherwise of the hotel in the morning would no doubt be an embarrassing pain.

The light “ding” of the elevator reaching our destined floor rang through my ears and helped me gather my strength to push Kanji away enough to show him my feral smile and escape through the opening doors. His footsteps were heavy and occasionally erratic behind me as I led us to the room that I accurately identified as my own. I had requested that I get to be alone so as to give myself somewhere to decompress without interruption. It was not for its intended reason that I was thankful that I had asked for the solo arrangement. But I sure as hell was grateful when I finally got the key card to function and the door swung in, banging loudly against the door guard on the wall. With a complete absence of patience, Kanji kicked the door close with the bottom of his foot and easily scooped me up under my backside and pinned me to the wall. His breath was hot on my exposed collarbone and cleavage as he peppered the area with kisses and bites. The scent of different alcohols played at my nose, but I couldn’t be bothered, not while Kanji rolled his hips into me between opened legs, teasing my most sensitive areas. His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, pulling at the fabric of my dress, squeezing the flexed muscle of my legs, groping my curves; in short, driving me insane. I wanted him. There was no denying that. I wanted him more than I had wanted anything or anyone ever before, and in a different sense than I had ever truly given thought to. Sure there were fleeting desires here and there (I am human after all), but I had been able to ignore them, allowing them the time they needed to pass.

Not this time. This time these urges, these cravings for human contact, were too strong to ignore. And with my own combined with Kanji’s evident yearning for my…everything, I was not going to be escaping the call of nature’s course. Especially not with those lips and hands on my body and the (ahem) impressive arousal straining under the hold of Kanji’s pants; I was seeing this through.

After a few minutes of torturing ourselves against the wall, fingers started to work buttons and zippers, practically tearing through anything that stood in the way of them and the hot skin underneath. It didn’t take long for us to discard our wedding outfits. Dress and suit forgotten in a crumpled heap on the floor, Kanji and I made our way to the bed. The mere feel of him towering over me, his fingers working on the clasp of my bra, the look in his eyes, I felt I could climax right then and there. I was so sexually frustrated, so backed up I could scream. But it was coming, my time to feel the pleasures of the flesh, it was upon me. And Kanji would be the one to make me feel the tingling on my skin and the building of pressure in my core. There was no doubt in my drunken mind that he would deliver.

I could feel the heat in my face once I realized that Kanji had freed me of my undergarments, leaving me exposed for him to stare at. He reared up on his knees to take in the sight, eyes burning trails over my skin, teeth biting his lower lip. “Shit, Naoto…you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he heaved after a few seconds. This made me squirm slightly; remembering it was the first time my naked body was being visually devoured by someone else. But his compliment, as rough as it was, did not fall on deaf ears. And was due to be returned.

Recall earlier that I brought up Kanji’s penchant for physical fitness. I could feel some of the muscle underneath his clothes, but having them revealed to me caused me to salivate. A perfectly sculpted chest accompanied by a chiseled torso and muscular arms stood before me, all for my hands and mouth to explore and appreciate. God did I appreciate every inch. I don’t recollect when I sat up and started to kiss, lick and touch him, but I do remember the sounds he made as I did so. Every groan encouraged my hands to become more adventurous and my teeth to nip harder. As I worked over his chest with my lips, my fingers wandered down below his hip bones, traveling down the V-shaped muscle and pulled at the band of the boxer briefs that remained on him. Tongue teasing a sensitive nipple and eyes hazed over with lust, I slid the final piece of clothing on either of us downward, revealing him to me.

“Damn.” This is the only word I could think at first gawking at him. Eventually this simple one-worded thought evolved into all the things I wanted to tell him to do with it, but like a dumb-founded fool, all I could manage was to bite my lower lip and bite it hard to try to break the hypnosis he inadvertently caught me in. (Thinking about it now I still find my teeth pinning down my lip. When I say “impressive”, I mean it). Attempting to keep steady, I leaned back to take in Kanji as a whole. The view was spectacular, even if the room was moving a little bit around him here and there. And he was mine.

“Naoto-chan?” Kanji asked, voice a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. I fell back onto the bed, a laughing fit most unbecoming shaking my bare body. I knew I was falling heavily out of character, but at that point I was naked in bed with a man that I wanted nothing more than to perform sinful acts with; I didn’t have to keep up my upright, respectable ploy anymore. Don’t think I could have even if I wanted to. Too many Cosmopolitans.

“Sorry, Kanji, but what else can I say?” I chuckled out a response before composing myself, taking on a more atmosphere-appropriate posture and aura. My tongue darted out to wet my lips. “You look better than I’ve ever dreamt”.

My words seemed to pierce right through Kanji, his breath visibly freezing in his chest. I realize that what I said insinuates that I’ve had dreams about him in a sexual fashion. It’s true. Like any sexually mature human, I’ve had my fair share of “wet dreams” starring different partners. Yu, Yosuke and Kanji have all been the focuses of these overnight fantasies. Even Kou had writhed his way into one. It just goes to show how badly I needed to “get laid”. But Kanji, for whatever reason, was a regular in these naughty visuals. The picture my subconscious painted of him was nowhere near as glorious as the original.

A low groan shuddered in Kanji’s throat as he descended over me once more. Hands worked their magic on my hips and breasts, convincing small moans of my own to sound. Words started pouring out of his mouth as he delighted in the reactions his touch gave me. “Dammit, Naoto, you’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted you. And tonight you were such a damn tease. I woulda pinned ya down on the dance floor if nobody was around,” he admitted just before dragging his tongue across my collar bone. The thought made me blush and giggle softly. What a sight that would have been.

“Rise would’ve killed us,” I slurred. The combination of alcohol and high libido was not going to permit me my usual standard of speaking. It was understandable.

Kanji scoffed against my skin. “Like I woulda cared,” he retorted. A quick bite of my nipple sent a shot of electricity through me, and I gasped from the shock of it. It was then that Kanji tilted his face upwards, that predatory stare chiseled into his expression once more. The look was enough to make me squirm. “But I got you now. And you’re all mine,” he rumbled with an untamed grin.

I’m sure I did not give the most lady-like of looks back at him at that. I could feel my features twist into an expression that was the female version of his; a glare that dared him to take me in the most animalistic way he could muster. For once in my life, I had no use for words. I simply grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled him into a hard, intense kiss.

That kiss. It was the coming together of our lips that made the fire deep inside me burn the brightest it had yet. It was our official signatures on the unspoken contract of the night; that we belonged to each other. That kiss was also the green flag to completely give into our most carnal desires. Any type of coyness that I had melted as I became the instigator between us. Using my tongue against his lips, I pleaded him to deepen the kiss. He gladly reconciled, parting his lips and the slickness of his tongue finding mine. It was a searing dance that reminded me of our exhibition during the reception; movement perfectly matched and not an inch of room between the dancers.

While distracted by the kiss, I hadn’t noticed that Kanji’s hand had drifted south and now rested on my inner thigh. A light squeeze penetrated through the oral pleasure, making my legs tense. His fingers managed to rest of spots that I had not known until then were ticklish. I broke the kiss to tip my head away, hissing to keep from laughing like a moron. I must have done a poor job of masking the secrets of my thighs. Kanji grinned as he fluttered his fingertips lightly over the same points of my flesh, dragging the giggles from my lungs. Once satisfied, he constricted his hand over my thigh again, signaling to me that he was close to my arousal; he was going to venture to where no one had before, and I awaited him on bated breath.

Though it was not often, I was not a stranger to a private, intimate touch. Admittedly I divulged in masturbatory acts here and there, mostly for a stress relief that nothing else could provide. There had been several moments where my mind had taken a stumble into the gutter like any normal teenager. It was these detailed thoughts that sparked the need for some “me time”. (This was usually following those dreams I had mentioned earlier). I knew what I could expect; a jolt in my lower abdomen, a few moans resonating in my chest, a build-up and eventual release.

What I expected and what actually happened were two completely different animals.

The moment the pads of Kanji’s fingers found me, I knew that I was in for one hell of a night. The pent up need coupled with my attention to physicality rather than mental state and thought made that first touch so much more electric. He decided that his fingers’ maiden voyage between my legs would be one that took in everything. My lips parted into a long gasp as he dragged his digits along the entirety of my heat, sliding along the entrance and picking up traces of saturation before lingering at the sensitive point at the top, taking care to move in slow circles once at this destination. The pressure he was applying to it was enough to merit a shake of my thighs with each lap his pointer took around the area. The lips that had been tending to my neck and shoulder now shuddered with heavy breaths. I opened my eyes that had tightly shut from the sensations to glance in his direction. Those steel eyes were concentrated on his hand and my body where they met and as my back arched and hips squirmed, he took a peek at these areas before concentrating on the main part of the show.

After a minute or two of merely playing with me, Kanji leaned himself further down to get easier access to the slick entrance just south of his previous swollen target. The tip of his finger teased me, just barely pushing between and moving up and down to stimulate the whole length of me. We were drunk on lust and alcohol and yet he still had enough in him to taunt me with barely-there touches; it was both impressive and aggravating. My nails raked his leg, causing him to hiss. Our eyes met once again as my voice came out in a cross between a strangled plea and a growl, “Do it, Kanji-kun. Please.”

A flash crossed my vision when his finger pushed into me. Those long tailor’s fingers of his are surprisingly thick. I hadn’t noticed until that moment. And I was incredibly lucky to have them attached to my partner. As he began to them work in and out, my mouth gave way to sexually-charged sounds I had never made before; moans, cries and mewls that all communicated my pleasure from Kanji’s technique. Soon low, hungry noises echoed in my ear from his lips and throat. He would take me momentarily, for sure. There was no way that he could not after not only hearing my reactions and seeing my squirming, but feeling what it was like inside me. The heat and wetness alone should’ve been enough to send him careening over the edge into lustful insanity.

During his hand’s dirty work, I insisted on doing some of my own. I spotted his straining arousal barely tucked into his boxer briefs. With fingers desperate to touch him, I slipped my hand under the hem and grabbed hold of Kanji. Hot flesh greeted mine and a twitch fought against my grasp. A broken groan heated my shoulder as I stroked his hardened length. (Considering our position and my state, I could’ve done a much better job my repositioning myself, but I don’t think this was going to be in the cards. Between his onslaught on me and the lack of cares about style and grace, the performance I was giving would have to do).

I only had roughly a minute or two to work him over as he suddenly scrambled away from me, leaning over my belly and hips to rest his face inches away from my heat. Once I felt the humid damp of his tongue lick along my lower lips, I lost all contact with my other extremities. Gluttonous and eager, his tongue lashed out, tasting my essence and circling the tightly wound nerves at the top of my entrance. My fingers instantly found his hair, grabbing holding to keep him there as my hips rolled up to meet his mouth. An excited groan vibrated from his lips and transferred to the flesh he was ravenously enjoying, bringing me so much closer to climax.

Had I been of sound mind, I would’ve taken care to not be too loud when I reached my end via my partner’s oral fixation. But I was nowhere near such a state as evident by the unrelenting cries of pleasure that permeated the room. My body shuddered throughout the stages of orgasm, even as the sensations dissipated and normal blood flow and heartbeat resumed. Well, somewhat.

Looking proud of his accomplishment, Kanji looked up at me, the initial glass of lust still coating them. Even with the unsteadiness of his gaze, it still caused me to grin and blush. As his body reclined next to me, his fingers still saturated with my heat grasped his arousal. A groan rose from him as he proceeded to stroke himself.

The act of male masturbation was never something I had an interest in witnessing. But seeing it in person and having Kanji as my first example, I must admit it was definitely a sight to behold. Chest and arm muscles flexed with each pump to his arousal, making my mouth water with anticipation of tasting such flesh. His expression was one I hadn’t quite seen on his face before; it was the look of someone that had completely given into the sensations of self-pleasure.

I observed this act for some undetermined amount of time before insisting I take over for him. My vision was still off from the overwhelming amount of blood that had rushed to my head before, causing my venture to find a fortuitous and comfortable position to end with me roughly laying across his upper thigh and hip, pulling a grunt from his chest. Something resembling an apology stumbles past my lips as I reach out with an unsteady hand for his length. A shaky start commences as I try to find a decent grip and rhythm, but once achieved, sounds of approval echoed off the room walls. The feel of the male erection is quite odd. It’s a stiff, fleshy rod with some spongy give and the occasional ripple in the skin from veins. A disgusting thought when pictured without experience however in person it’s not quite as awful. Kanji, a man of size and stature, laid before me and his arousal hard. Though the feeling was as it was described to me in text books and articles, it did not look like something I wanted to avert my eyes from . Matter of fact, I couldn’t tear them away. I watched my hand stroked him, skin rising and falling with my motions, the head becoming partially enveloped in it. I was fascinated.

As I worked on him, I noticed a glistening drop pool at the tip. I leaned closer to get a better look, the smell of his musk burning my nose. This was no doubt the “precum” substance. And as I watched more and more gather, my mind wandered, wondering what its consistency was, if it had a smell…and how it tasted. Curiosity getting the better of me, I closed the distance between my face and Kanji’s length. First I took a light whiff of the area (finding that his manly smell was overpowering any aroma the liquid could be potentially giving off). Then I rested my hand near the top of my next stroke, taking a moment to rub my thumb in a small circle at the head. This earned me a loud groan from my partner as well as fingers run through my hair. The substance was slick and warmed by his body. Seeing that some remained on the tip of his erection, I opened my lips and lapped at it with my tongue to get a taste. A salty yet oddly pleasing flavor coated it, making me eager to take a few more languid licks. My eyes happen to glance up in time to see Kanji’s glazed over stare concentrated on my mouth. The realization dawned on me then that having his entirety encased in my mouth would no doubt give him immense gratification and allow me to hear more of the delicious sounds he had been making. Doing my best to hold myself without risk of failing at my current job or falling, I wrap my lips around Kanji and move my head in tandem with my hand.

“F-Fuck, Naoto,” he breathed as I found a new tempo to move to that would pull him closer towards his finish. The feel of his arousal in my mouth was certainly a new experience. It was incredibly warm and seemed to have a mind of its own. (Whether caused by my actions or his brazen need to orgasm, it had a tendency to twitch). The taste of the “precum” mixed with the surprisingly plain hint of the erection itself toyed with my taste buds, allowing me to concentrate less on my own comforts and listen to Kanji’s groans and curses as well as pay attention to physical cues. Well, best I could given my blood alcohol level. After what now seems like a series of mirages and mind tricks (possibly a side effect of the “up and down” movements my head had made in rapid succession), I felt Kanji suddenly swell and immediately release with a loud, aggressive growl and fingers curled in my hair.

If it had been a normal setting and situation, I’m sure I would’ve found Kanji’s flavor objectionable to say the least, but in my drunken rapture from knowing I brought my partner to climax with just a hand and my mouth, I found that the spastic injection went down relatively quick despite how hot it was dribbling down my throat. I used an inelegant back of my hand to wipe the bit of Kanji’s “cum” from the corner of my lips. The act as a whole was incredibly enjoyable and stimulating as I found myself slick with need once again. My fingers found the space between my legs and explored the small folds there, teeth biting into my lower lip in a coy expression; I was hoping to get the thought that I needed and wanted him across.

I watched him find consciousness in his muscles and joints once again and sit up, watching me roll onto my back and lazily pleasure myself with my own digits. A large hand found one of my breasts, massaging it and teasing at the nipple, making me gasp and moan. His lips found mine only the kiss was upside down, the tops of our tongues pressing together. His strayed in my mouth and tickled at the roof, sending a chill through me that paired with the pad of my pointer circling the hot button at the top of my entrance. I returned the favor, winning a growl from him and a nip to my tongue. Our lips parted and my mouth started to run away from me.

“I want you, Kanji-kun. I need you. I know you’ll feel so good inside me,” I breathed as his lips amused themselves on my ear, neck and chest.

Another guttural groan sounded. “Gimme a few minutes an’ you’ll have me, Naoto-chan.” My patience did not have a good timer on it as several times I reached for Kanji’s arousal just to have him hiss that it wasn’t ready and to “punish” me with a hard bite to the nipple or hip bone. Knowing that an indirect approach may help him along, I used my free hand (as the other was still standing in for Kanji between my legs) to travel his body, running a heated trail along his flexed muscle and to taunt his own nipples with pinches and flicks.

Kanji had somehow made his way on top of me again, the top of his body lining up with the bottom of mine, and his mouth joining my fingers, trying to force his way in and gain control. I put up a lazy fight, just barely trying to keep my hand employed before succumbing to the wet, fiery touch of his tongue to the bundle of heightened nerves I had warmed up. His hands found the underside of my legs, pulling them apart for better access and leaving himself open above me. I spectated with hungry eyes as his arousal began to harden once again. The thought that I was the one driving the blood downward in such a glorious man made me crazy with pride and desire. This desire was to let him have what he wanted, which was no doubt to drive his length into me, and quite frankly pound me into the mattress.

I let out a lengthy moan of pleasure as he lapped at me, encouraging him to continue on his task and to keep him from noticing my own hands reaching towards his steadily stiffening length. Fingers found the springy flesh of him and started to caress and tease in a hope to excite the appendage even more. Eventually my palm wandered and cupped the “attachments”. A gentle massage here roused a groan from Kanji that vibrated over my exposed center, making me hiss. His hips bucked forward as I somehow managed to get a coordinated motion between the stroking hand and kneading one. The synchronization forced Kanji to give up on his oral pleasuring and replace his tongue and lips with fingers that roughly played with me once again. His eyes were fixed on me. I could feel them burning into me with the intensity of a concentrated flame.

The expectation here was that Kanji would pause to enjoy my handy work, letting out more of those masculine moans that drove my loins to a quivering state. So it goes without saying that it was a shock when he unexpectedly shifted his body, swinging himself around so his lips could meet mine once again and his hips were pressed to mine. The beautiful moment of the kiss fought hard to keep my attention from the rigid arousal pressed to the mound just above my entrance. Gradually my legs found their place outside of Kanji’s body and my lower body rolling upward; an invitation signed and sent by my budding voracious appetite for him. My arms wrapped around his neck as I pulled him into a deeper kiss, bringing a growl to a head from both of us. I could feel him straining to keep himself in check. Muscles shaking and tense, it was difficult to determine whether he was struggling to keep himself upright or if he was literally locking his body up to prevent it from being unleashed on me in one fell swoop.

A tick of the clock and he was lying on top of me, not one inch of us apart. I was surrounded by him, arms next to my head and upper body, his chest pushed to mine and his privates almost flush to my own. The proximity of his erection to my sex was a form of torture all on its own. I had never been so in carnal need before that it felt as though it were throbbing with my accelerated heartbeat. Lo and behold, that was my condition. Each second that went by that he wasn’t inside me was practically painful and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

I needed to fight off the kiss as it seemed Kanji was entranced by it. After breaking free of his ravenous mouth, I was able to beg him to proceed. “I need you, Kanji. Do it. Take me,” I stretched my finals words into a wanton moan of desperation. Or was it a moan of pure lust as he took to my first plea as quickly as I could breathe it and moved to line himself up at my entrance? Whatever it was, it was a lavish, unadulterated tone that carried me into the frozen moment in time before Kanji pushed into me.

The head of his arousal kissed my lower lips then caressed them, teasing me but not for too long before slipping into me. Both Kanji and I exhaled in moans as he dove inch by inch, further into my heat, until he could go no further. By sight I could guess that it was going to be a tight fit, but there was nothing my malfunctioning mind could do to prepare me for Kanji. His impressive size really made itself known as it stretched my insides; it wasn’t painful, mind you, but it was a feeling I had to adjust to before we could continue. As if he knew (no doubt from the look on my face that was contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure) Kanji took a minute or two to shower me in kisses, nips and licks to my mouth, neck and chest.

Once I was ready, I breathed out, “Go, Kanji. I’m okay”. And with a quiet growl and a shallow nod, my partner began a steady rhythm with his hips. In and out, in and out he went, pumping his arousal into my excited and hungry sex, summoning all kinds of noises from within me, varying in pitches as high as gasped cries and as low as feral growls. My nails dug into his shoulders, scratching his skin and causing him to hiss into my neck. For a while we stayed close, his body almost lying on top of mine. Eventually the suggested romance from the position was overshadowed by our lustful needs; Kanji pushed himself up onto the palms of his hands, extending his arms and putting some distance between us. Eyes once clenched shut opened and I took in the sight. A thin layer of sweat glistened on flexed arm and chest muscle. I glanced below and watched with my lip pinned under top teeth as he entered me again and again. It was like a clip of pornography; the erect male plunging into the ready and willing female over and over. But this was real life, this was happening to me, and it no doubt felt leagues better than whatever those stars and starlets of the adult industry experienced. My line of sight rose up and focused on Kanji. His face was red with effort, beads of sweat forming at his hairline and lips open not bothering to meet again between huffs and grunts. His eyes opened and met mine, expressing all sorts of emotions. From those I could detect, lust, pleasure and a vague sense of surprise leaked through the fog I waded through from his ongoing performance.

A particularly hard thrust sent a bolt of lightning through my body, ripping a short cry from my throat. And realizing the cause, Kanji smirked in a way I had never seen before. Or rather I had but it was a shape his mouth took when he was determined to decimate an enemy or challenge. I could only translate the look into one thing; he was going to assault the spot that seemed to force such a reaction from me until I could no longer manage a scream. Again and again he hit this unseen spot that made my eyes roll and toes curl. My arms lost all ability to reach for him and fell to my sides, fingers balling up and fisting the top layer of covers on the mattress. His fiery gaze was fixed on me now, as if not wanting to miss any reaction I have to the onslaught. And soon undistinguished cries and gasps turned into rough words.

“Aah! F-Fuck, Kanji!” The words were broken and pinpointed each thrust but fared as well as could be expected given the circumstances. Somewhere in my haze, I repositioned my legs so I could move my hips with his, rolling them into him and giving myself even more pleasure as the sensitive nub at the top of my entrance rubbed against his pelvic area. My actions called his attention and his looked down, spectating to my shameless attempt to increase our pleasure with extreme intrigue. We had both abandoned our usual shy and reserved personas; we felt no regret and were unrestrained. Nothing was off limits and in some kind of silent unspoken agreement we knew this.

“Fuck, Naoto. That’s fuckin’ sexy,” Kanji grunted as he timed his thrusts with the twists of my hips. His voice was enrobed in velvety desire, making him sound sensual and incredibly masculine. And hearing my name in such a tone was enough to make me open to more pillow talk.

“You like that, Kanji-kun?” I asked with a fox-like grin, knowing all too well how much he enjoyed how I felt clenched around him, wet and tight, all for him. His speed dropped as he took in the moment for himself, letting me have control regardless of how awkward the position.

“Ooh fuck yeah. Fuckin’ love that,” he moaned as his hands reached for my hips and pulled me further up onto his thighs. (He had sat up on his knees at some point in order to enjoy the show I had decided to put on for him). This new position pushed him all the way into me and allowed me to grind completely against him, making his arousal change in trajectory inside me and brushing against susceptible corner there that made me hiss. I could feel his eyes fixed on where our bodies met, making it hotter than it already was there. I watched as he brought a thumb to his mouth, moisten the pad with his tongue and lower it to me, circling the hot spot that I had until then gratuitously massaged with his body.

“Aaaaahh!” my moan was loud and broken, the new outlet of sexual gratification almost too much to handle.

“Yeah, you like that? You like when I rub that clit, baby?” Kanji groaned as he watched my reactions. His words skewered my senses, the dirty talk making me twinge with an injection of excitement. But he wasn’t done. “Oh fuck that pussy feels good,” he growled out as he slowly figured out timing between his hips and his thumb along with my set beat of movements.

Never before had I considered dirty talk a type of speech I would accept in the bedroom. I had believed it to be barely shy of degrading and shameful. But hearing it from Kanji in that damn tone that made me melt and caused such spasms of exhilaration in my system, I wanted more. I needed it. I wanted to hear him curse, listen to him describe how amazing my pussy felt wrapped around his hard cock. I craved to have these words and more flood my ears and push me closer to an orgasm that would coat him in my sex and claim him as my own.

The overwhelming urge to pull this line of conversation from him drove me to sit up and attempt to take charge. The rush of my movements made my world spin and rendered me limp and at his mercy sitting atop his lap. Feeling no more movement from me aside my arms around him again, Kanji took control and gripped at my ass, hands directing my body to continue their previous act. Coupled with shallow thrusts from below, he ended the short reprieve from the bedroom act and brought us back to a place riddled with moans and gasps.

Close again, our mouths locked together, tongues reuniting in a steaming kiss as our lower halves kept up their dance. I could feel the sweat building on my back and my brow. Was the room hotter? Perhaps the air conditioning had not been on when we first spilled over the threshold to the room. Or maybe it was just simply the combination of the physical exertion and the heat of our breaths and bodies that had made the mercury rise. Whatever it was, I was becoming just as damp as Kanji had become with our activities. Normally the feel of a single bead of sweat anywhere other than my forehead would send me straight to the shower, but this was a strange, almost satisfying sweat. Much like the saturation from a good workout (which perfectly describes our romp), this would be one of those times where I didn’t mind nature’s gloss giving a shine to my skin. Kanji could take it as a sign that he was doing a very good job.

A moment of clarity pushed through and I realized that my weight on his knees might be hurting him. With a few pushes stronger than I had intended, I coaxed Kanji onto his back and took the reins. I still yearned to hear more of those deplorable words and phrases that were building within the man that was my source of pleasure. And I would drive him to scream them yet. Hands pressed to his chest, I began to rock my hips back and forth similar to how I had when on my back only this time the sensation received was stronger. Two large hands found my thighs and squeezed tightly as I found a steady beat to move to within my muscles. An exhalation of carnality escaped Kanji.

“Aah, fuck yeah. Mmm ride that cock, Naoto. Ride it,” he rumbled, one hand wandering upwards and playing with one of my breasts. Yes, that’s what I wanted to hear. I can recall a severe feeling of gratification from the achievement of pulling more of those delicious syllables from him. Matter of fact I still can’t help but feel a swell of pride from it. And as more hedonistic sentences escaped Kanji, they were met with wild replies of my own. Each word was met by a quickening in my rocks and soon was paired with hungry thrusts from below. This was it. Our climaxes were fast approaching and threatened to send us toppling over the edge. Just a bit longer; a few more well-placed shots from Kanji and my continuous riding, our names on each other’s lips coated in decadent tone, tight gripped hands, a squeeze of my thighs, a virile growl and an unreserved cry and we felt the crash over our bodies that sent us into a tizzy of forceful, enjoyable spasms, taut muscles and the sense of fulfillment that we had both been clawing for like animals since we left the dance floor.

Collapsed on top of Kanji, the two of us curled into each other as we recovered, a puddle of contentment and panting. Large arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I could hear his heartbeat pounding away in his chest, matching my own. As we calmed down, I rolled to the side and we somehow figured out how the covers of the bed worked. My eyes began to flutter close. Sleep was about to take me. It was only fought off by the feel of Kanji’s lips on mine in a soft kiss, causing us both to smile. As I cuddled closer to him and we found a comfortable sleeping position, I thought to myself how there was no possible way I could wake up in the morning a regret such an amazing night with an amazing man.


End file.
